24 Chips of Bone to Make a Mask to Hide the Truth
by Tasogare-Taichou
Summary: A series of vignettes following Shinji and Hiyori's evolving relationship.
1. Prologue

24 Chips of Bone to Make a Mask to Hide the Truth: A ShinjixHiyori collection

24 Chips of Bone to Make a Mask to Hide the Truth: A ShinjixHiyori collection

This is a series of 24 ficlets inspired by the challenge of the livejournal community 24-hour themes. Every theme refers to an hour of the day and the inner spiritual meaning behind the hours themselves. I have chosen to interpret these themes in a series of "firsts" for Hiyori and Shinji, depicting their relationship through the years through little meaningful cameo moments that offer insight into realizations they have had about each other and the effect that their relationship has had on each of them. Being that this is a work of fiction, the characters are not mine, I am only borrowing them and using my own creative license for portions of their background and relationship that are never explored in canon.


	2. Chip 1 Comfort Zone

The first time that Hirako Shinji ever saw Sarugaki Hiyori, he had to admit that he wasn't very impressed

The first time that Hirako Shinji ever saw Sarugaki Hiyori, he had to admit that he wasn't very impressed. And honestly, why would _anyone_ be very impressed by the sight of a skinny, scrawny little freckled thing with a snaggletooth and a scowl? About the only redeeming feature the boy could really grant to the girl -- that _was_ a girl, wasn't it? -- was that her hair at least managed to save her appearance from that of completely homely. Long, blond, tumbling down over her shoulders in what -- despite it's somewhat unkempt appearance -- managed to soften the harsher lines that seemed to make up the girl's very person.

Shinji didn't know the girl, in fact he'd never even seen her before in this district until today, when he'd decided to wander around after he finished his lunch at around 1. Not that that meant much of anything, seeing as how new souls appeared in Rukongai daily. But this girl didn't have the same bearing as someone who'd spent time in the 27th district. Her scrappy attitude and the distrustful and wary manner with which she seemed to regard the world were more reminiscent of those who spent their lives fighting for survival in such places as Inuzuri or Zaraki. Not that Shinji would know firsthand what those places were like. After all, he'd never lived there. Unlike so many of the souls who simply existed, who made small family groups of mismatched individuals who managed to glean a living, he'd always had a family. He'd been _born_ here. And while he certainly wasn't nobility, not by any means, it was still a step up. At least, that's how he considered it.

It wasn't that he'd considered himself "better" or "higher" than the others around him -- not the way that he'd heard nobles like the Kuchiki did -- but he just didn't have the same appreciation for their situation. In a word, he was middle-class. And that was just fine with him. It didn't bring him any prestige or anything of the sort, but at least it made sure he had food in his stomach and a roof over his head, something that many in Rukongai went without. And people like her, people who seemed almost feral in their natures... they just didn't exist in this part of his world. Which was possibly why her presence intrigued him so. It was _different_ than anyone he'd really seen before, and in some way it was almost threatening to his own youthful view of his world, the security that while others in the world lived in much more dire straits, his little bubble was still intact.

Perhaps it was the difference he perceived in the girl -- besides the fact that she was younger than him and he was bored with nothing to do -- that prompted him to make his way across the field to plop down beside her with a grin and introduce himself. Or maybe it was that he wanted to see for himself if she really _was_ a girl.

Either way, all it got him was a look that plainly said "the hell do you want" before the girl in question went right back to noisily gobbling down the purloined riceball clutched tightly in her fist. His own eyebrows furrowing together in mild annoyance, he repeated his greeting as though it would somehow cause something to click in her head and those things called "manners" that he'd been taught about as a child would kick in and she'd act... well, like a normal person and not some uncouth monkey.

Which was precisely what he told her she reminded him of when the only response he got was a noncommital grunt.

And so it was that Hirako Shinji found himself, for the first time in his fourteen years, lying flat on his back and staring up at the afternoon sun, beaten into the ground by a girl half his age wielding a sandal in one hand and a half-eaten riceball in the other. Of course, he would always reason to himself later -- as he would with all the successive beatings to follow -- that if he'd really wanted to stop her, or if she hadn't caught him off-guard, he could have easily stopped her.


	3. Chip 2 And Then There Was Hope

The first time Sarugaki Hiyori actually met Hirako Shinji, she'd already beaten his thin face into the ground once before

The first time Sarugaki Hiyori actually met Hirako Shinji, she'd already beaten his thin face into the ground once before. She'd seen the youth wandering around the streets before, and she didn't like him. It wasn't really something that she could explain -- not that Hiyori really thought things like that _needed_ explaining -- but something about him just rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was that shit-eating grin he was always wearing, or the way he seemed to think he had some right to call her an "uncouth monkey". Something like that, at least, before she'd seen to it that his face met the ground hard. Idiot.

Plopped on the ground at the edge of the street, she watched the throes of people passing by in the early morning -- 7 AM or so, she assumed, munching on yet another scrap of food she'd gleaned out of a trash bin. "Peaceful place", huh. Yeah, that was a load of shit, all that crap the shinigami had told her as he'd walked away after letting go of her hand. At least, she thought it was the shinigami. Like so many others, her memories of the time immediately after she came to this place were so fragmented and hazy that for the most part she didn't even think on them. All she really knew was that this place -- Rukongai, she knew it was called -- was far from the happiness she was relatively sure she'd been told it would be.

Her momentary reverie had been broken by the sudden impact of a slightly larger body settling itself down beside her on the edge of the street. Glancing up with an irritated look -- how dare whoever it was interrupt her meal like that -- her dark eyes narrowed even further to see that same familiar build topped by blond hair. Great. It was _him_ again. Shoving the food into her mouth again, she took a moment to study him further. He looked... different. Diminished, somehow, as though something had stripped him of confidence and left an emptiness in his wake. Scrubbing a fist across her mouth, she jammed one bony elbow into his ribs.

"Hey. The hell's wrong with you?"

It was probably the first time she'd actually spoken to him, and when he didn't answer immediately she simply dug her elbow in harder until it produced the desired result, which was a yelp and his attention turning towards her as he scowled back. Or... she assumed that was supposed to be a scowl. It really seemed to lack much of the vehemence that she normally put behind a scowl but then maybe that was just him. His face seemed more fit for that irritating grin.

He sighed, the harshness fading away slightly from his form as shoulders sagged. He looked... defeated. She was about ready to hit him, and tell him that he was a guy and guys weren't supposed to be pussies when he started to speak.

"My family... they're... they're all dead. Hollows..."

Scowl lessening slightly, she continued to munch on the bread, nodding faintly. It was something she'd heard dozens of times, despite the fact that it didn't happen as often in these districts as it did in the rougher ones. Despite the intercedence of the shinigami, Hollows still appeared here. Still attacked occasionally and when they did there was always fallout. It was just to be expected here. Hollows or not, people died. They died every day, and he was a god-damned idiot if he didn't realize that.

Pulling back a thin arm, she balled up her fist and slugged him hard in the back of the head, sending his face crashing into the ground. Turning back to her bread, she continued chewing, seemingly oblivious to his heated protests at her beating. "Quit being such a pussy."

"The hell did you do that for, you little brat!?"

His angry retorts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of half of her loaf of bread as she shoved it in front of his face without a word. Blue eyes widened for a moment in surprise. Food was valuable, especially to those like him -- and her, obviously, given the way she was going at that bread -- who possessed ample spiritual energy. And... he was hungry, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Being on his own... that was something he'd never really had to deal with before. Sure, he was something of a risk-taker at times, and he was by no means pampered, but there was a certain degree of security that came with knowing where your next meal was coming from.

Reaching out, he took the offered piece of bread and took a bite, resisting the urge to grimace at the dry texture. Things were going to be different, and he had to get used to that. Nodding at her, he muttered a "thanks" around the mouthful of bread. And received another whack to the head for his trouble. Stupid girl, the hell did she have to keep doing that for?! Shinji would have asked her just that, only she cut him off.

"Quit being such a fucking pussy. You're a guy, aren't you? So quit being a god-damned pansy."

It was simple enough for her. Like it or not, they were in this together, and they'd just have to keep up the hope that they'd be able to keep surviving.


	4. Chip 3 Faded Ribbons

The first time Hiyori ever wore her hair up, she kept it that way because she knew Shinji liked it down

The first time Hiyori ever wore her hair up, she kept it that way because she knew Shinji liked it down. In fact, she knew it was about the only feature of hers that he considered "redeeming". Or at least, that's what he told her, since she knew firsthand he thought she reminded him of a monkey with fangs. Not that she really cared -- because she didn't, not at all -- what he thought or what he said. In fact, the only thing she cared about in reference to what he said was whether she should use her sandal or her fist to hit him with.

Or both. There was always the option of both. Combing hands through thick blond waves, Hiyori scowled as her fingers snarled in yet another tangle. Irritating stuff, hair was. She honestly couldn't understand Shinji's seeming fascination with growing his out but maybe it was because unlike her wavy mass of thick blond, his hair always seemed to be so sleek and straight and manageable. It was unfair, that's what it was. Damned unfair that a _boy_ would have better hair than her. It even LOOKED better right now, as the big clock in Seireitei chimed 5:00, with the late afternoon sun beating down upon it and turning pale blond to gold. Disgusting.

Ignoring the offending boy's presence as she grumbled something profane and detangled her index finger from the knot in her hair, she glanced around at the sparse little room they were sitting in. There had to be _something_ she could use to fix this mess. Finding nothing of any real use, she turned her attention to the bottom edge of her faded pink -- she hated pink, why the hell did the only one she had have to be that colour -- kimono. Hooking fingers into the threads, she tugged, carefully ripping off a thin strip from the bottom of the mildly tattered cotton. Maybe she could tie it up with that.

Shinji watched as the scrawny arms worked, Hiyori's frustration showing in the way teeth were set against her lower lip as she worked, cursing luridly as the strip of fabric she was trying to tear off of her kimono -- for what purpose he had no idea -- tore in half. Obviously not long enough for whatever plan she had in mind for it, given the expression on her face and the bitter complaints that dripped from her mouth. The hell was her problem, it wasn't like they could really afford new clothes anytime soon so why would she want to go around ripping up the only thing she had to wear?

His questions were answered a moment later as he watched her take one of the strips of cloth and yank her thick hair up into a bunch at the nape of her neck. Gripping the string in her teeth, Hiyori combed thin fingers through the thick mass, straightening it as best she could before wrapping the strip of cloth around the base. Too short.

Well that was fucking great. Her damned hair was too damned thick so now she'd have to keep dealing with it being all in her face and shit all the time. Dropping her hair with a disgusted sigh, Hiyori bit her lip. There had to be _something_ she could do, something that could offer her surcease from the constant annoyance of her hair that _didn't_ involve cutting it all off. Hell, she didn't have the fixation on her hair that Shinji did, but neither did she want to be bald. OR mistaken for a boy all the damned time.

Thinking to herself, she mentally studied the two broken pieces of fabric sitting on her lap. She could... yeah, they might be long enough for that. Nodding to herself, the skinny girl went back to fussing with her hair until she was satisfied with it. There, that would work. Pushing herself to her feet, she walked over towards the cistern in the corner -- they'd cobbled it together from scrap timber after deciding that stealing water was silly when it fell from the sky for free -- shoving Shinji out of the way with a sideways kick as she passed. Hanging her head over the wide mouth of the barrel, she studied her handiwork. Two pigtails, set high on the sides of her head, the faded pink fabric keeping tangled blond locks out of her way -- well, with the exception of the bangs that framed her youthful, freckled face.

Shinji yelped in irritated surprise as her bare foot -- thankfully the sandals rested by the door -- connected with the side of his face as she knocked him out of the way. Irritating little monkey, the hell did she have to do that for? He opened his mouth to protest, not that it would do any more good seeing as it never had before, but his attention was drawn by the sudden change in her appearance. Hiyori wasn't that much to look at, and Shinji -- despite being the only one she really _had_ -- wasn't going to argue with that.

They'd been together for about 5 years now, since the death of his family in the Hollow attack, and she'd grown from a skinny and unattractive kid to a skinny and -- as far as he was concerned -- equally unattractive youth. Thirteen or so, at least that's how she looked, with no curves whatsoever to speak of. All elbows and knees and bones, with those same freckles spattered across her cheeks, that same snaggletooth on the one side and her little face constantly drawn up into an unattractive scowl. No, Hiyori was definitely not what _anyone_ would have termed "pretty". In all honesty, he had to say that the only real redeeming feature to her was that blond hair that fell in thick waves around her shoulders, longish bangs framing her face and giving a bit of a softer tone to the rest of her, all angles and harshness that it was. her hair actually... made her look like a girl. Well, if one squinted, he supposed.

Her hair was about the only part of Hiyori that he really _liked_ most of the time. She was loud, rude, abrasive. Nothing at all that girls should be. And now her hair, that pretty hair was yanked up into two unsightly clumps on the sides of her head. Frowning, he scoffed at her as she studied her reflection in the water.

"The hell did you do that to it for? It looked better the other way."

His response was the water dipper impacting solidly with the center of his face as she stalked past, ignoring his swearing or attempts to staunch the blood from his nose.. Idiot. Like she gave a damn what he liked or didn't like. And just for that, she was going to _keep_ it this way from now on.


	5. Chip 4 Gossamer Wings

The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori smile, he had to admit to himself that she could be almost pretty at times

The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori smile, he had to admit to himself that she could be almost pretty at times. Almost. And even then, it was only if you glanced sortof sideways at her and squinted. The way he usually tended to look at her, though he blamed the squint on the fact that his bangs were about an inch too long and he sure as hell wasn't about to let _her_ anywhere near his hair. Not after the way she hacked away at hers with an old blunt pair of scissors whenever the pigtails she'd taken to wearing over the last few years got long enough to get in her way. It made him shudder just to watch her. Honestly, nothing deserved to be subjected to the sort of abuse she put her hair through.

Either way, Sarugaki Hiyori didn't smile. She smirked, or sneered, or gave him that same smug grin when she landed a bare foot on his face and then declared -- as always -- that he wasn't about to get an apology from her. Not that he'd ever really expected one. That would have been stupid. Just as it was pointless to do anything other than plop down beside her on the hillside as he wiped the blood from his nose. Violent monkey... it wasn't as though his nose wasn't already crooked, she didn't need to make it MORE so. Watching her sidelong through long blond fringe, he leaned back, pressing long-fingered hands against the soft grass, he let out a long sigh.

Another morning. Another mote of time spent watching the sun as it rose in it's slow arcing path up the heavens -- though to call the sky thus in this place seemed laughable at times -- the same as it always did every day. But that was the crux of living in a world such as this. Predictability was a good thing at times, and though the weather could be varied at times, and the temperature certainly changed with the normal seasons, the sun rose and fell at precisely the same time every day. At dawn it would begin it's slow climb up the vault of the sky and at exactly 8 o'clock in the morning it hit the precise point in the sky that allowed it's golden rays to strike directly through the small window of the shack they made their home in to hit Shinji right in the face. That shaft of golden light would wake them, bringing them outside to simply sit and watch the day break around them before beginning the oft-arduous process of simply getting by.

Glancing back at Hiyori, he leaned his head back, the heavy weight of his hair sliding over narrow shoulders that had still managed to broaden up a decent amount as he grew.

"Oi. Hiyori. Do ya ever think about where we're gonna be in the future? You know... are we still gonna be livin' around here or is there somethin better out there?"

The girl scoffed, tugging her lower lip between her teeth with an irritated huff as she looped thin arms around her knees with a nod. Of course there was something better. They could see it every day, the white tower glinting in the distance among the pristine rooftops of the inner circle. That walled place where those like themselves were seldom ever allowed to enter. Seireitei. Home of the shinigami. Those black-garbed ones who dedicated their lives to the protection of the souls around them. It wasn't really the prospect of being a protector that drew her attention, it was the simple fact that for those like them -- those with spiritual power beyond that of a normal soul -- there were two options. Live as they were, scraping by and stealing for food in a world that cared little for their survival; or fly away. Leave this place behind and strive for a new path. One of servitude to those carrying the swords.

"Stupid. Are you fucking retarded, of course there's somethin better. You're just too damned dumb to think of it, Shinji."

She would have slapped him with her sandal, the way she always did, but the motion stopped short as brown eyes crossed in a positively puzzled look to study the bridge of her nose, upon which a fluttering of black wings suddenly rested. A jigokuchou -- no, at closer glance it was more of a dark violet then the inky black of the shinigami messengers -- had alighted on the upturned tip of Hiyori's nose and sat there quietly, wings fluttering faintly with the slight breeze as the girl wrinkled her nose at the offending insect.

Shinji would have expected her to smack it off of her face, to mutter something about "stupid butterfly" or otherwise revert back into her normal persona. Anything other than what she did next. Brown eyes softened, her face losing it's characteristic scowl as the corners of her mouth turned up just slightly with a small laugh. Leaning back a bit, she held the gentle smile on her face as the creature flapped it's gossamer wings, floating away through the sky.

"Look, Shinji... it's so free."

He could just nod, still so stunned at seeing such a gentle expression on _Hiyori's_ of all people's face to really give any sort of coherent reply. She was right, the butterfly was definitely free, as it floated on the updrafts across the sky towards the morning sun. Glancing back from the butterfly to Hiyori, he caught her faint whispered words right before she stood up and walked off, face sliding back into it's usual expression.

"...I'll be free like that one day..."


	6. Chip 5 Green With Envy

The first time Hiyori ever realized what jealousy felt like, she was damned determined that it was NOT because of Shinji

The first time Hiyori ever realized what jealousy felt like, she was damned determined that it was NOT because of Shinji. It wasn't because of his damned smug grin he always had on his face nowadays, and it wasn't because of the fact that he'd gotten himself put into the advanced class, and it _definitely_ wasn't because of the way all the girls in their class swarmed around him as if he was the coolest thing they'd ever seen.

Anyone else who was watching might have said something else, given the way brown eyes were leveled venomously at the other student, boring an invisible hole in the back of his blond head. Idiot. It was so fucking unfair, that's what it was. Unfair on so many levels that _he_ should somehow manage to be placed in a higher class than she was, or that he was so... so damned _popular_

_It's just cuz they don't fuckin know what a dumbass he is..._

Or at least, that was the current thought running through her mind as she clenched fists and teeth and watched Shinji shmooze with the gaggle of girls that were clustered around him. They were all idiots too, of course. Sitting there before afternoon classes resumed at noon, smiling all stupid-like the way girls do when they think they're being cute. Hiyori scoffed at that. Cute. The hell was so great about "cute" anyway? Honestly she didn't think any of them had half a brain, and the fact that they were congregating around _Shinji_ of all people just served to solidify that idea in her mind. And the way he kept pulling that "first love" crap? Pathetic. And no, it _didn't_ bother her that he'd never said that to _her_. Not in the slightest.

Shinji wasn't that much to get excited over, it was just _Shinji_. Just Shinji standing there, long blond hair pulled back in a slim tail at the nape of his neck, that same shit-eating grin on his face as he flirted and laughed, batting his eyelashes coyly at them. It was disgusting, and just plain _weird_. And no, she was NOT jealous. That would have indicated that _she_ somehow wanted Shinji's attention. Which she didn't, just for the record. He was just... annoying her.

And it wasn't just the popularity -- seeing as SHE had quickly garnered the reputation for being scary -- it was that he was just so damned _good_ at everything. It wasn't fair, the way he excelled at everything that she seemed to struggle with. Where she fell short in her swordsmanship, he was top of his class. Where her kidou fizzled and was the joke of the class, his were met with oohs and ahhs by the observers. It was only his first year and already there were whispers that he showed the potential to one day become a captain in one of the squads.

And that was something for her to deal with. NOW. Shoving her books under one arm, she stalked over towards the group, a small portion of her mind speaking up that perhaps she should think of an alternative way of dealing with it. But that portion was quickly tossed aside in favour of the usual method. Which presented itself as one small bare foot planting itself squarely in the center of his grinning face, propelling him backwards as the girls screamed and scattered, hands drawn up in girlish horror as the object of their adoration was sent sprawling across the floor by a girl half his size who promptly laughed and declared loudly that she was so sorry, she must have confused his face for the door. Because obviously the two had so much in common with each other.

Ignoring his loud protests that she explain herself, Hiyori straightened up and brushed the dust off of her red and white clothes before stalking off down the hall. There. Served him right.


	7. Chip 6 Second Glances

The first time Shinji ever really looked at Hiyori, he nearly ran smack into a wall

The first time Shinji ever _really_ looked at Hiyori, he nearly ran smack into a wall. He wasn't even looking for her in the first place, though he grudgingly admitted he felt a bit bad for her. But then, actually trying to _talk_ to her about it would have just netted him another kick in the face because she'd never willingly admit either that she was having trouble OR that she could do with a bit of help.

_She's just too damn stubborn anyway. Maybe she'll grow up eventually._

Hiyori being stubborn wasn't in any way "new" information to him. In fact, it was a well-established fact that the scrawny kid he -- for some ungodly reason he couldn't place -- had attached himself to was nothing more than a perpetual pain in the ass. Violent, loud, rude. All of those described Hiyori perfectly. And that mouth of hers was going to get her in real trouble one day. Like it almost had today. Oh hell, her mouth had almost gotten _him_ in real trouble today.

Sighing, he reminded himself of the whole purpose of his current errand. Detention -- or at least the closest he could really get to it -- for punching the swordsmanship instructor in the face earlier that day. Because of Hiyori, of course. Shifting the ponderous stack of papers in his arms, Shinji brushed an errant strand of long bangs from his face with a scowl. Of course it was Hiyori's fault, but he really couldn't blame her. As much as he might have wanted to, especially seeing as it was nearly 9 at night and he was _still_ shoveling paperwork.

It was hard, because she was just a kid. Hell, the asauchi that they were given in their swordsmanship class was nearly as big as she was, so it was a small wonder that she'd had trouble handling it. But that was no reason -- at least in his opinion -- for their instructor to be so rough on a _kid_. Hiyori was the youngest in their class, and the smallest to boot. An enigma among the rest of their classmates and it didn't help that her temper and her attitude made her stand out. In fact, if she'd just backed down and not been so damned determined to prove that she could handle everything the others did, then maybe she'd have gotten off without the beating she'd managed to come down with. Or at least, managed to come down with before Shinji's fist had connected with his face and sent him sprawling. Asshole, beating up on a child that way.

A muffled curse drew his attention and he stopped, cocking his head to the side. He _knew_ that voice, and it piqued his interest seeing as she didn't normally hang around this part of the academy complex. Making his way towards the sounds, Shinji stuck his head around the corner with a puzzled look on his face. What was she _doing_ here anyway?

It only took a second or two for him to realize what was going on. Hiyori was practicing. Or at least... that's what it looked like. Her attention focused entirely on the blade in her hands as she swung it slowly through the basic forms they'd been learning, hands shaking only slightly as she grew more accustomed to the weight and handling of it. He watched her with an appraising eye, noting that her form was much improved now, when she was actually behaving calmly and rationally. As unusual as it was to think of _Hiyori_ in relation to either of those terms.

Watching the slow movements of the blade, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over the rest of her, feeling his cheeks warm slightly as he came to a sudden and startling realization. Sarugaki Hiyori may have been small... but she most certainly wasn't a child. At least, that was a good estimation of what his mind supplied as blue eyes stared at slight, supple curves and graceful movements as he realized, for the first time, that while he'd been exasperatedly wondering when she was going to "grow up"... she'd gone and done just that. Scrawny limbs were still scrawny, but rather than being bony they were thin with wiry muscle. Curves were slight, but with her small frame anything much more would have been overkill and looked odd. Almost as odd as the way his mind kept slipping into little fantasies he could have sworn he'd never had before.

His rather unexpected ogling was broken quite abruptly as a flat black shoe landed squarely in the center of his face as Hiyori glared at him. The hell did he think he was doing, staring at her like that. He was practically _leering_. Stalking over, she proceeded to stomp on him a few times, as if to get the message through, before throwing up her chin with a huff and stamping off down the hallway as Shinji lay in a twitching heap on the floor, mentally reminding himself to never, NEVER ogle Hiyori again.


	8. Chip 7 Terms of Endearment

Theme: 10:00

Theme: 10:00  
Title: Terms of Endearment  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 7 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever called him "Baldy", it wasn't even intended to be something that stuck. Rather, she thought he was acting entirely too smug about his recent promotion into the Gotei-13 and that meant that Shinji needed to be taken down a peg or two. Especially seeing as _she'd_ made it in too and it wasn't like he was the only damned one who graduated, honors or not. It took the both of them 3 years to do it, but whether it was 1 year, 3 years, or 8 years didn't really matter much to Hiyori. It just mattered that they were _done_. No more books and tests and idiot instructors who thought they were so damned smart even though they couldn't get a decent seated position.

Padding down the hallway on bare feet -- she never wore those damn sandals if she could avoid it, they chafed if she didn't wear socks -- the pigtailed girl stopped in front of one particular door that looked fairly identical to all the other doors if one didn't take notice of the numerous footprints and dents in it's polished wood.

"Oi! Shinji, open the damned door!"

She gave him the appropriate amount of wait-time -- all 10 seconds of it, she was really being fairly generous today -- before levering one small bare foot against the door and kicking it hard. Where most doors would have withstood the force, this one had obviously taken a beating from prior altercations with Sarugaki Hiyori's left foot, as the hinges squealed in protest and the latch slipped, heavy wood swinging open to bang into the wall as she simply walked in heedless of any protesting from the room's occupant.

"Quit being such a baby, it's not like there's anythin much for me to see, dumbass!"

Stalking across the room, she plopped down in the center of the futon cross-legged and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl. The hell was he doing in there, getting ready for some damn beauty contest? The graduation ceremony was at 10AM and if he made them late… She gave him another 20 seconds or so before the trashcan impacted the back of his head. That'd teach him to take so fucking long when they were already going to be late.

Hiyori waited through the inevitable string of complaints from Shinji before she communicated his need to shut up with a sandal to the face. His sandal, but she didn't really care about that at the moment.

"The hell is takin you so damn long, it's not like ya hafta shave or anythin' like that!"

Sitting back and recrossing her arms, scowl deepening, she resisted the urge to giggle at the somewhat horrified look on his face. Oh seriously. He couldn't tell her he hadn't expected that, at least to some degree. Or maybe he hadn't, seeing as the next few words out of his mouth were an offended-sounding demand for an explanation.

"The hell is that supposed to mean, Hiyori?"

He really had no idea what she was getting at with the crack about him and shaving. Sure, he didn't shave, but what concern of hers was it, seeing as not only was it _his_ face, but he didn't NEED to shave.

"It means ya don't shave cuz you're just a freakin' baldy, that's what!"

If Shinji could have spontaneously lost his grip on the ground and somehow managed to fall into a heap, he would likely have done it right now. "_Baldy_"?! How the hell did she get THAT one? He most certainly wasn't bald – his hair was a damn sight nicer then hers, even though actually _saying_ so would get him beaten even more – and Hiyori was at least usually accurate with her insults. Well, when it came to blatant facts -- like the fact that his hair was down almost to his waist now – she at least tended to stay within the realms of truth.

"What the hell do you mean, "baldy"?! I've got 3 damn feet of hair, Hiyori!"

He was cut off yet again by another blow to the head, this time her foot landing in his face. He should really tell her he had some sort of foot fetish one day, _that_ would probably get her to quit it. Of course then he'd have to live with her turning THAT into an insult and Shinji was rather certain he'd prefer getting kicked daily to having the whole of Seireitei think he had some sort of weird fetish for toes. She laughed as he went about his usual task of putting his nose back where it belonged, standing there with her hands on her hips.

"My bad, freakin baldy. Your face got so close I thought it was some sorta ugly monster for a moment. And it don't matter if you've got hair, your face is bald so you're a baldy!"

Oh, well _that_ was mature. And made about as much sense as the idea of Hiyori in a dress would have made. But telling her that just netted him another kick and a rather uncomfortable meeting with the wall as she then turned and walked out the door, declaring that if he wanted to be fucking late trying to shave his bald face, he could do it on his own. Picking himself up, he combed fingers through his hair with a sigh.

_Great… somehow I think that one's gonna stick for awhile…_


	9. Chip 8 Turning Corners

Theme: 12:00

Theme: 12:00  
Title: Turning Corners  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 8 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori's heart break, he decided it was something he never wanted to see again. Especially not when it was his fault – at least to some degree. Hiyori… wasn't supposed to be vulnerable like that, she wasn't supposed to run away, she wasn't supposed to _cry_.

It had been his fault, and he wasn't going to deny that. His fault for not explaining soon enough – not that Hiyori would have likely given him much chance – but he'd been so astonished by the look on her face that all he could do was stand there and stare blankly.

He'd just received his promotion. Moved up from a mere 6th seat all the way to vice captain in only a couple of years worth of service. It was a significant award, and one made all the more important by the fact that his captain had confided a possible upcoming promotion for _herself_ as well. A position in the Central 46, something she'd had her eyes on for quite some time, and she'd trusted him with the knowledge that, should he prove himself, she'd see to it that he was recommended as her successor.

Hiyori would have accused him of having a swelled head, and while normally he'd have rolled his eyes and teased that she was just jealous, he'd wonder later if she hadn't been right for once. It had been late that night, after paperwork and tea and practice that the knock had come on his door. An unseated, recently graduated from the Academy, books in hand and a look of trepidation on her face. She'd bitten her lower lip and shyly professed admiration and asked if he could help her with a bit of kidou she was studying, as she was having trouble with it.

And like most any man would, he'd flashed her a charming grin and invited her in, flattered by the fact that she would seek him out thusly – especially seeing as he hadn't really tutored anyone since his own Academy days – and intending to impress. He hadn't intended the rest of the evening, though it was by no means the first time he'd shared his company thusly.

What he hadn't expected was to be interrupted at midnight with a loud banging on the door. Grumbling, he'd sat up and scratched his head, yawning as he did and hardly noticing that his companion had already moved to open the door, the top of his shihakushou wrapped around her. But it was the voice that stopped him in his tracks, eyes widening as he stood up to see who it was.

"Hey, you stinkin baldy, guess they musta screwed up yer test results or something because…"

He got to the door just in time to hear her voice trail off, to see brown eyes widen and her face turn pale as the doorway opened not to the face she'd expected to see, but to one far more feminine, long brown hair hanging loose, _his_ shirt around her. Shinji started to open his mouth to say something as he watched Hiyori's eyes flicker from the half-dressed girl to his slightly disheveled and shirtless appearance, preparing himself for the tantrum or beating that was likely to follow.

Only… it didn't come. Blue eyes widened even more as he saw her own brown ones start to shimmer for a moment and her lower lip start to quiver just slightly before she hurled something down at her feet and took off running back down the hall. At the impact of her feet against the floor, it was as though somehow the ice that was freezing him in place shattered and in an instant he was at the door, calling after her retreating figure.

"Hiyori, wait! It's not-"

Which was silly because in truth it was exactly what she probably thought. And the fact that it obviously bothered her didn't make much sense at all, seeing as they weren't involved or anything. At least… not like _that_. Sighing, Shinji leaned against the doorframe, one long-fingered hand sliding up to rake touseled hair out of his eyes as he gave a sidelong almost-glare at the girl. Taking the hint, she simply grabbed her clothes and darted out the door.

_Stupid! She's your… well, your best friend, I guess. She doesn't wanna see that._

Closing his eyes and feeling the hard wood against the back of his head, he stood like that for a moment before stooping down and scooping up what she'd thrown. Gingerly unwrapping the paper – seeing as packages from Hiyori occasionally exploded in one's face – he sighed again as he picked up what looked to have once been a cookie. Buried underneath them was a simple note in Hiyori's familiar scrawl.

"Guess they screwed up the ranks again, Shinji. Had these lying around, figured you'd eat 'em. – Hiyori"

Unconventional as usual, but then it was just Hiyori's way of saying "congratulations". Or… he was relatively sure that was it. Pulling the door closed, he set the plate on the dresser and started getting dressed. This would take a good few hours of training to sort out.

It would be a month before Hiyori talked to him again, and even though he knew she would never have acknowledged anything had he brought it up, Shinji never got involved with anyone again.


	10. Chip 9 Watchful Eyes

Theme: 02:00

Theme: 02:00  
Title: Watchful Eyes  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 9 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori didn't hit Shinji when she normally would have, she chalked up to the fact that her foot was currently in his hand and her _own_ hands were occupied with trying to wrest the roll of linen bandages away from him. Hitting could come later, though she'd realize after the fact that it never came at all this time.

It was early, too early for anyone really to be up, seeing as most shinigami – those who weren't on night patrol, at least – turned in by midnight and 2 hours later were definitely not up and wandering the buildings that made up their divisions headquarters. And it was too damned early for Shinji to be up and lurking in _her_ division, seeing as he was a damned captain already and she wasn't going to be his lame-ass excuse for why his paperwork wasn't done.

Returning from a mission under Captain Hikifune's orders, she'd made her way back to the 12th's compound with teeth gritted and most of her weight distributed onto the ankle that wasn't swollen and bruised. A careless mistake – at least as far as she was concerned – in the fact that the Hollow had been faster than her. It had been able to get it's hold on her and despite the fact that she would have willingly granted anyone who said it was true, Hiyori could now say with firsthand certainty that being flung around by the ankle was _not_ among her favourite activities.

Hobbling her way back towards her quarters, she'd recognized Shinji's reiatsu before she'd seen his lanky, Cheshire-grinned figure push away from the wall, haori conspicuously absent and long hair pulled into a ponytail. Growling, she'd stopped in her tracks and fixed him with a glare.

"The hell are you doing here, baldy? This isn't your division."

Blue eyes rolled in exasperation as he loped over, familiar swaggering gait the same as always. He wasn't going to dignify that with an answer, as it didn't matter what he said, he'd still get hit. Looking her up and down, he sighed.

"You're hurt, moron."

Her angry outburst morphed into death threats and pummeling as he – without asking or waiting to be given permission – wrapped an arm around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, wincing slightly at the impact of her fists on his back and the heel of her right foot against his nose.

"THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU STUPID DUMBASS BALDY, PUT ME THE HELL DOWN I CAN WALK JUST FINE I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMNED HELP!"

Shinji sighed, sticking the finger of his free hand in his ear. At least that drowned out some of the protesting. Walking the rest of the way to her quarters, he pushed open the door and dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed before taking a quick assessment of her injuries. With the exception of the ankle, she seemed alright. Just a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal. Snagging a roll of bandage off of the table, he evaded a couple of punches and kicks and grabbed the offending leg.

"Sit still, ya idiot."

Like she would listen to that. He got a moment of stunned silence before the yelling resumed, punctuated by her good foot hitting him in the face again. It was rather irksome, he had to admit, especially seeing how he'd waited for her for nearly 3 hours when she didn't come back from the mission on time. A favour to Captain Hikifune – at least that's what he was calling it – but still. She could at least act a little more grateful.

Careful so as not to do more damage, he gave the injured ankle a slight yank, enough to elicit a startled yelp of pain. At least it got her attention as he shook his head and started carefully wrapping the linen around the swollen joint.

"Can ya just shut the hell up for long enough so I can do this?"

It was such an uncharacteristic and yet perfectly _Shinji_ thing to do that her latest protest died on her lips and she was left sitting there in sullen silence, watching his hands work. She should have hit him. Slapped him silly and reminded him that she wasn't a fucking baby and she sure as hell wasn't his responsibility to babysit and he'd better damned well stop acting like it. But… there was something about the way he was bandaging her ankle, something gentle and careful, that made her stop. Made her sit silently until he let go and fixed her with a "there, was that so difficult?" look before she scoffed and got up and promptly threw him out the door. She sure as hell wasn't going to thank him. She hadn't hit him, he'd better be grateful for that.


	11. Chip 10 Unexpected Comfort

Theme: 11:00

Theme: 23:00  
Title: Unexpected Comfort  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 10 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever saw Hiyori's strength fail her, he knew he was the only one who did. It was right after the announcement of Captain Hikifune's promotion, and while most of the assembled group was busy congratulating her, Shinji was the only one who noticed the stiffness in Hiyori's narrow shoulders, the way her teeth were set against her lower lip and her brown eyes were staring straight ahead as though she could somehow block out the knowledge.

He waited until well after the festivities – if they could be called that, he personally thought it was a bit stiff and formal – were concluded, around 11PM , and then set off on his way across the grounds in search of one reclusive blond girl.

She wasn't that hard to find, all he had to do was look for the most isolated spot – outdoors, she always went outdoors when something bothered her – in the compound where she wouldn't be heard. An old tree presented a perfect place and by the muffled sniffling sound filtering down through the branches, it was the right place.

Shinji stopped at the base of the tree, head tilted up and cocked to the side, hands resting on his hips. He could just barely make out the dark shape of Hiyori's slight form perched high up on a branch, arms crossed and resting on another one, her chin settled on folded wrists. Grinning, he reached up to snag the one ankle that was hanging down and give it a good yank. Not enough to knock her down but it certainly got her attention.

Before she had enough time to launch a sandal or other object at his head, he'd hopped up onto the branch beside her, face turned up towards the stars. Normally he would have taken the chance to tease her, but the look on her face stopped him. She looked… defeated, almost. Like a frightened little kid who'd just had the world yanked out from underneath her. And in a way, he couldn't deny that was essentially what had happened. Hikifune had been like a mother-figure to her, and it was in her company that he'd really seen Hiyori shine. It was only natural that she'd be feeling lost without her.

He sat perfectly still, not saying a word for a moment, glancing sidelong at her faintly tear-stained face before sucking in a breath and looping an arm around her shoulders loosely. He was probably setting himself up for the beating of his lifetime, but oh well. He felt her shudder slightly, but the punch never came, Instead, she dropped her head onto her arms for a moment, shoulders trembling faintly with silent sobs. There wasn't really much that he could do right now, so he just sat there. Hopefully… that would be enough. And it seemed to be, when about 5 minutes later she raised her head and scrubbed the back of one hand across her eyes for a moment before fixing him with a scathing look and knocking him out of the tree.


	12. Chip 11 Birthday Memories

Theme: 14:00

Theme: 14:00  
Title: Birthday Memories  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 11 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever voluntarily sought comfort from Shinji was a year after Captain Hikifune's promotion. Her birthday, though she'd never personally been much for celebrating the day. Honestly, she didn't even know if it was really her birthday. Most people in Rukongai simply picked a day and celebrated on that – if they celebrated at all. But Captain Hikifune had been of a different mindset. She had felt everyone should have a special day all their own, and when she found that her vice captain didn't have one, the kind-hearted captain had promptly demanded that Hiyori choose one.

And so she had, and her captain had insisted on throwing a party, complete with cake. It had never seemed that big of a deal to Hiyori, if anything it was an inconvenience. And yet… she'd grown accustomed to it. Accustomed to the appearance of a smile and a wave and a small cake with a single candle – she wasn't about to admit her age, or what she assumed was her age – left on her desk.

It hadn't been until the month of her birthday approached that the realization had set in. This year… there would be no cake. No happy smiles and coloured streamers that she could scowl over and pretend she didn't appreciate. No Hikifune-taichou. That fact had weighed heavily on her mind the entire day, since she was relatively certain that no one else who might care even _knew_ the date.

Thus it was an unexpected surprise when, at the end of lunch, she headed back to her office at around 2 to find a simple small cupcake sitting in the middle of her desk. Narrowing her eyes, she studied it warily. Cupcakes weren't always what they seemed, and it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be nothing more than a normal cupcake, sitting on top of a folded piece of paper. Picking it up, she sat down at her desk, taking a bite. Shinji. She didn't even have to look at the note, he was the only other person, as far as she knew, who knew her birthday. And not just because she'd happened – completely unintentionally – to pick the anniversary of the day she'd met him.

Munching on the cupcake, she closed her eyes and savored the sugary taste, relaxing in a stolen moment of bliss. And for a precious few seconds, she could forget that things had changed. That Hikifune-taichou was gone and they weren't participating in one of her corny celebrations. Feeling something prickling at the corners of her eyes, she wiped her hand across them, unwilling to admit that she was crying, that the tears had already sld down her cheeks.

"You ok?"

Glancing up, she hurridly wiped her eyes, unable to meet Shinji's gaze for the moment. Of course she was ok. She was fine, she didn't need anyone's help or comfort. She was strong and confident and… all it took was a few moments and a slight nod of his head before her arms were around his waist and she was just holding on. It was weak, and she'd beat the hell out of him if he ever mentioned it, but for now… she needed it.


	13. Chip 12 Epiphany

Theme:

Theme: 18:00  
Title: Epiphany  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 12 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever realized he loved Hiyori, it came in a moment of frenzied panic, emotions he thought he'd long-since gained control over. Panic wasn't for seasoned officers, not for someone in his position. It was for someone who couldn't handle what was going on, someone who was lost. And Hirako Shinji certainly wasn't lost.

But those weren't by any means the thoughts running through his head as he raced, shunpo moving quicker than he ever thought he'd moved before, heading towards the source of that one singular thought in his head.

Hiyori.

The captain of the fifth division knew perfectly well that no one else at that meeting, despite how well many of them knew him -- and some of them knew him quite well – had seen the way his muscles had tensed at Urahara's words, the way he'd only managed to bite his tongue because decorum – and Yoruichi's words – dictated that he not let on that while the commander of the Special Forces had been right about the disrespect given towards Hiyori by Kisuke's concern, his current desire was to choke the life out of the man for sending the girl out that way.

Lost soul pulses, mystery enemies, strange disappearances… it didn't add up to anything in Shinji's mind other than trouble. The big clock in the center of Seireitei was tolling half past 6, which meant half an hour since Urahara had sent Hiyori. And while he was silently thankful that Soutaichou had selected him as one of the group to go to the location, he couldn't deny that he would have gone regardless.

But as he raced towards the coordinates he'd been given – hardly mindful of the fact that he'd left the others behind in his haste – the thing that was eating at him most was the precise reason _why_ he would have gone. Something he'd pondered on once or twice before but that now was thrown into stark relief in his mind, a blaring reality that he couldn't overlook.

He was in love. In love with the girl who seemed to enjoy kicking the crap out of him as her favourite pastime.

Honestly, Shinji had never really given the idea much thought. Loving Hiyori… it wasn't as though it was something he really dwelt on and considered much at all. In a way… it was something that his subconscious mind had always just _accepted_, even though he'd been oblivious to the fact.

Until now. Until circumstance and danger threatened to rip her from him and he was brought up face to face with the realization that protecting her was the single most important thing in his life. More than his duty as a captain, more than his loyalty to Seireitei, more so than even his reservations and concerned about Sousuke. Because without Hiyori…

He shook his head. No. There was no use even _thinking_ about that, as there was no point in even entertaining the thought that he might not make it in time. He would make it; he _had_ to make it.

Feeling the night wind harsh against his face, he pushed harder, pumping more reiatsu into his steps, knowing – though he really had no idea why – that time was running out, that this wasn't simply a matter of getting there and finding a battered Hiyori screaming at him about being late. This… was something different. Something threatening and _wrong_ that not only threatened Seireitei, but threatened HER on an even deeper level.

He could feel her reiatsu, along with something strange, something… _alien_, that he couldn't place. But she was alive. That much he noted as she came into view and then his blade was there, his blade and his body coming between her and her adversary, shielding his most precious person – though he'd only recently realized that – from the harm and death he could sense reaching for her.

Half-expecting a barrage of complaints and harsh words, he was somewhat grateful to simply hear his name, in a breathless, strained tone as she panted. Blue eyes flickered to her face momentarily as he reinforced the mask of duty over his face, ensuring that no trace of his recently-discovered epiphany remained. Good. She was alright. Bruised, bloody, and battered. But alive. And he was going to make certain she _stayed_ that way.


	14. Chip 13 Scapegoat

Theme: 22:00

Theme: 22:00  
Title: Scapegoat  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 13 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two

The first time that Hiyori ever declared that she hated Shinji, it wasn't really even him that she hated. It wasn't his face, or his mood, or the stupid way his hair was straight – no idea where she'd gotten that one from – or even the idiotic way he kept sitting there and _letting_ her scream at him. Not fighting back at all.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all, not fair that she was like this, that _they_ were like this, and it wasn't fair that he wouldn't just _fight back_ because then at least she could have derived more satisfaction from tearing him apart.

They'd barely managed to make it out, to escape with the dogs of the Special Forces hot on their tails, Aizen's trickery and betrayal still stinging in the backs of their minds. They'd escaped with their lives but not much else. And now here they were, holed up in some grimy abandoned farmhouse in the human world. Banished. Exiled. Everything they'd once had, everything they'd once _been_ stripped away like the old paint on the side of the house. It was as though time had just stopped for them, frozen the way the stilled hands of the broken clock on the wall remained permanently stuck at a quarter past 10.

And she couldn't even get the satisfaction of blaming someone for it. They all knew that despite what Aizen had said, it had been through no fault of Shinji's. No one blamed him for it, at least not really. The only one who granted any blame towards him was himself. Well, and Hiyori, at least at the moment.

Normally they would have stopped her, normally _he_ would have stopped her, but right now they were just too tired. Too drained, stretched too thin, everything shattering around them. And so no one had the energy to protest when she leveled a kick at the wall and promptly laid into Shinji with a vengeance.

Even Shinji himself knew she didn't really mean it, that it wasn't him she was blaming. It was herself, just as they were all blaming themselves for this, cursing themselves for being strong enough to have survived. And despite Hiyori's angry demands for an explanation of why he'd let her live, why he hadn't just dispatched her the way he would have any other hollow, they all knew that it would never have been that simple. That none of them could have killed any of them unless they'd known beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no other answer.

But Shinji's own guilt was the reason why he refused to fight back, refused to snarl at her and remind her that she wasn't the only one suffering here, and to stop being so damned selfish. He didn't have the energy, and beyond that… he understood. Understood that she didn't know what else to do, that she was feeling lost and frustrated and knew more than any of the others that scared and lost and frustrated were emotions that Sarugaki Hiyori wasn't used to dealing with.

And so she dealt with them in the only way she knew how, by forcing them off on the nearest target. In this case, him. And he sighed and took it, the only response he gave to her loud assertion that she hated him a very tired and weary one.

"I know…"


	15. Chip 14 Backhanded Words

Theme:

Theme: 16:00  
Title: Backhanded Words  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 14 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever got a compliment from Hiyori, it wasn't even a _normal_ compliment at that. But then, one couldn't really call much of their relationship "normal" to begin with, so he had to grant that it wasn't really that out of the ordinary.

They'd been in the real world for nearly 6 months now, since their exile and flight from Soul Society. Urahara had, despite the fact that many of them felt a certain lack of trust for the man – after all, it _had_ been his experiment that helped make them thus – been something of a godsend, his knowledge and skill providing them with not only a place to stay but the gigais they were currently using.

Rotating his shoulder slightly, Shinji could see Hiyori fidgeting a bit from her slouched position on the other side of the common room where she'd taken over the small loveseat and evicted Rose and Kensei to the carpet at the other end. She did a poorer job of hiding the fact that none of them were really used to the sensation of being in a gigai on a longterm basis. It was an adjustment for them all, but they'd have to get used to it. It wasn't as though they had a choice in the matter. Otherwise they'd have been doing something other than sitting around the house like they'd been doing since returning from Urahara's about 3 hours ago. That was 4. Now it was nearly dinner time and they still hadn't figured anything out.

Combing a hand through thick bangs, he let long fingers trail back to the leather tie at the nape of his neck, it's coils holding his long hair in a tight ponytail. He'd kept it long for… well, almost as long as he could remember. Hiyori used to tease him when they were little about how he'd rather have had his arm cut off than his hair and he couldn't totally deny the truth of it. In a way, it was almost a security thing. Growing up in a world where nearly anything could be taken from you and you had so little control, his hair had been one of the few things he _could_ control.

_I'd miss it, but… it's so distinctive. I stick out like a sore thumb and that's not gonna help us blend in…_

But could he really cut it? And if he did, how much to take off? Yanking the tie free, he felt it's heavy weight fall over his shoulders and pool on the bench behind him in a honey-hued pool of silk. Yeah, he'd miss it. But this wasn't about vanity anymore, or even about preferences. It was about survival. And sometimes survival meant sacrifices.

Pulling out his zanpakutou – he hated to use it for something like this, but it wasn't as though he had anything else – he gathered his hair up on one hand, cognizant of the confused stares the others were giving him. Especially Hiyori, though her stare was more one of amused disbelief and skepticism – not surprising, seeing as she was the one who'd sworn he'd never cut it. Sparing barely a look for the others, he brought the blade up, feeling the slight resistance as it sliced through thick blond strands. Letting the fistful of hair drop to the floor behind him, he shook his head as cropped blond locks fell around his face.

There was silence in the room for a moment as the others stared in stunned disbelief before the atmosphere was broken by a scoff from Hiyori as she rolled her eyes at him and pushed herself off of the couch.

"About damned time, Baldy. At least now you don't look so much like a really butt-ugly woman."

She walked out, stretching arms over her head as he stared after her for a moment before grinning slightly and shaking his head, running fingers through newly-short hair. Compliments weren't something that Hiyori generally dealt in, but that was probably about as close as he was likely to get. And he'd take it.


	16. Chip 15 Momentary Insanity

Theme:

Theme: 09:00  
Title: Momentary Insanity  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 15 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever considered that she could love Shinji, it was more of an afterthought than anything else. Hell, she'd been making cracks about becoming his bride for years now, even though she'd never actually considered – or meant – the implications of what she talked about. It had always been more of a way to tease him, a bit of "yeah, remember what you're not gonna get"

But things like that were rather far away at the moment. There were other things to concern themselves with. Like it or not, they were changed. Completely. Never again to be what they once had been, and there was nothing for it other than getting used to it. But that was easier said than done, especially when you had a sinister voice in the back of your head, whispering to you at every turn.

But what was there to do? It wasn't as though they could undo what had been done, hell they weren't even really sure _what_ had been done in the first place. Scowling, more to herself than to anyone else, Hiyori sighed and shifted her shoulders irritatedly. The hell Shinji had dragged them all here for, she didn't know and she was relatively sure the others didn't either. It wasn't even fucking 9AM yet, didn't he know girls needed their beauty sleep? And while they might not have cared that much – granted, she trusted Shinji too -- _she_ was going to kick his ass across this damned garage if he didn't explain soon.

Thankfully for Hiyori's mood, that explanation was forthcoming as Shinji stepped out into the center of the large open space, looking up at the others where they sat and stood ranged out across the rocks. Sweeping one arm sideways he gave them all a wide grin.

"So, how do ya like th' new place? Figured it'd be pretty perfect."

He hadn't mentioned _what_ it was perfect for, a fact that Hiyori sarcastically pointed out. Really, did he drag them here just for _this_? If so, beating seemed almost too good for him. He frowned slightly at her comment, shaking his head and setting his knuckles on narrow hips.

"No, that's not why I brought everyone here."

Pausing for a moment, as if for effect, he continued to explain, expression growing more serious with every word.

"I think I know a way to deal with it."

He didn't have to explain what "it" was. They all knew. There was only one thing that would make any of them carry that tone of voice, make that sort of face. Hiyori narrowed her eyes slightly as he began to explain. They could fight it. Go into the inner world that all of them possessed, that place where they communed with their zanpakutou. The place that the Hollow had now contaminated. And just as they'd all once had to gain control, to subjugate the spirit that dwelt there, they could do the same to the hollows. And then, just maybe… they could learn to harness the power it gave them.

It was a risky plan, one that got him loud protests and arguments across the board. Except from the one place it would have been most likely to spout from. Hiyori remained eerily silent, simply listening. Where the others yelled, her eyes only widened fractionally as he went even further to state that he'd test his idea out. On himself.

And while part of her was raging at the idea that he'd make this sort of choice for all of them, another part was quite frankly impressed. Impressed that he'd come up with this on his own, and admiring of the rather selfless way he was willing to risk himself for something that wasn't even a sure go. Something to help them _all_.

It wasn't even that Shinji wasn't the sort to put the needs of others before himself. He was. But still, something this risky, this unsure… it was almost _noble_ in her eyes. And it made her look at him – even for just a moment – in a different light. She could almost… consider that being his bride wouldn't be such a bad thing. But only for just a moment.


	17. Chip 16 Lost Time

Theme:

Theme: 11:00  
Title: Lost Time  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character/Pairing: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 16 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever realized he could lose Hiyori -- _really_ lose her – it was one of the most sobering experiences of his life. They'd all had some trouble, some difficulties implementing the plan of action he'd thought up. They'd started at midnight, giving everyone an hour's worth of time and then resting for another hour or so. And now, nearing 11, they were almost done. It had been hard.

But it had worked. He'd been the first to try it, going into the depths of his own soul and beating and crushing down the hollow within while the others took turns fighting his transformed body in the confines of their shielded warehouse home. And after a grueling half hour or so, he'd come out victorious, mask resting against his face for a moment before it had crumbled away and he'd fallen, exhausted.

The others had done it as well, one at a time until only one was left. Hiyori. Despite the fact that she'd railed against it, he'd insisted that she be the last one to go through the process. And though he'd given her some flimsy excuse – and been sandal-beaten for it – he knew perfectly well what the real reason was. He wanted her to succeed more than any of them. And despite the fact that he knew perfectly well it was as much about _her_ resolve as it was anything else, the fact that she was reaping the benefits of all of their experience didn't hurt either.

But she was taking too long. They'd all taken different amounts of time, and had different results – hell, Mashiro had been able to simply put a mask on and keep it on, she hadn't even _had_ to subjugate it – but none of them had taken this long. Nodding to Rose as he stepped back, watching the other man take his rotation in the fight against Hiyori's transformed self, he set his jaw as Risa caught his eye. She didn't have to say anything, he knew what she was silently communicating. That if Hiyori couldn't do this… couldn't tame and master the beast within her soul, there would be only one option.

Shinji knew that, and yet it was the last thing he wanted to think about. He knew what that one final option was, they'd all discussed it before anyone – even him – had tried this. The option that would become reality should one of them fail and transform completely into an uncontrollable hollow. But he wasn't willing to accept that, he _couldn't_ accept that. Hiyori was strong, she would make it through this.

But even as he assured himself of that, watching Hachi cast high-level binding kidou onto her small form made him grit his teeth against the urge to shout out, to say something, _anything_ to try and break through to her. As if it would help – he knew perfectly well it wouldn't – but it might have made him feel better as he felt his hand tighten involuntarily around the hilt of his zanpakutou.

_Come on, Hiyori… You're stronger than this, don't let it beat you._

It was his turn again, leaping in to tag out Kensei as the seconds ticked by, seeming like hours as he parried a blow from her claws, ducking the cero she hurled his way. This wasn't Hiyori, he couldn't let himself think this way. It was the _thing_ inside her, just as that monster he had become wasn't him. But… it _was_ Hiyori, all the same. Her body, her mind that fought him tooth and nail while her soul hung in the balance, waged in a desperate war with the darkness threatening to consume it from within.

The designated time was almost up, the time when they would be too exhausted to keep battling it and would be forced to concede that the hollow had won, that Hiyori had lost her own fight as they had lost theirs. Closer and closer as the seconds crept by agonizingly slow and it became harder and harder to fight down the panic rising in the back of his mind, the panic that begged the question of what he would do if she lost, how he could get through the centuries ahead if he didn't have her there beside him.

Fingers tightening around his sword's hilt again, he prepared to start yet a third circuit, ignoring Risa's protests that they'd reached the limit, that they couldn't keep pushing onward. But he couldn't stop, couldn't give up so easily, screaming in his mind as though she could somehow hear him.

_Fight it Hiyori!_

And then, as though his words had somehow made it through, there was a pulse of reiatsu and she stopped dead in her tracks, the hollow's body beginning to crack and slough away into fading bits of bone leaving only Hiyori standing there, horned mask covering her face for a moment before she collapsed.

He was there to catch her as she fell, his relief almost palpable as he gave into the urge to cradle her to his chest, thankful that the others were also gathering around, their own sighs of relief mingling with his own. Because regardless of what Hiyori may have meant to _him_, she was also a comrade. A friend. She was one of them.


	18. Chip 17 Night Terrors

Theme:

Theme: 04:00  
Title: Night Terrors  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 17 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever saw Shinji afraid, it stung even more to know that it was – in her opinion – partially her fault. And despite the fact that she couldn't blame the whole thing on herself, seeing as it had been _his_ hollow that had dragged itself free of his control, it didn't change the fact that she wanted to. Especially seeing as he'd been acting like a little pussy bitch for the last 2 days since then. And it was getting on her nerves.

Shinji wasn't like that, he didn't generally allow things to get to him so much, and the absence of his usually calm and able leadership was throwing the entire group into disarray because if Shinji couldn't handle it, then how were the rest of them supposed to when he was the one guiding them?

Sliding down off the rock she'd settled herself onto, Hiyori mentally chided herself as she shied away involuntarily from putting her weight onto her right arm. It was stupid, Hachi had fixed it as good as new so there was no reason to be favouring it. Just a reflex, she assumed, seeing as how she'd have still been bandaged and monitored had they been in the 4th division's barracks instead of this place. But either way, it was irritating and she didn't _feel_ like dealing with Shinji's mood right now.

Stuffing small hands into the pockets of her red track pants, she loped off across the expanse of training ground to the door that led upstairs. To the part of the warehouse that was made to actually look something like a normal home. Bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. All there, though they were certainly Spartan in regards to amenities. They didn't need much, after all, and it wasn't as though they were trying to impress anyone with a show of wealth. Shinji's emptying of the fifth division's treasury immediately prior to their flight had left them with plenty of funds for whatever they might need but it wasn't as though they had an easy source of new income should they use that up.

Kicking open the door, she headed up the stairs, following the sense of gloom hanging heavy in the air – god, she hated it when he did that, the big baby – until she found it's source. Curled up in a chair at the table, the same way he'd been since 4AM that morning, elbows resting against the polished wood, blond head in his hands. He looked so… lost, in a way. Like a little kid needing someone to pick him up and comfort him.

At least, that was the momentary thought before the flat of her sandal connected solidly with his head and sent him sprawling across the floor to glance up at her with a scared, bewildered look from the corner as she stood with hands on her hips, face pulled into a scowl.

"Cut it out, Shinji!"

He opened his mouth for a moment as if to protest, the words dying off in a sigh as he raked fingers through blond bangs with a shake of his head. She didn't understand, wasn't thinking straight. He could have _killed_ her. And for what? Because he'd been a fool enough to think that they could try and master the hollows, to _use_ them for their own means. To think they could become more than just damaged shinigami.

It had been an intriguing thought, that given the fact they'd already figured out how to subjugate the hollows perhaps they could figure out a way to utilize the increased strength and new abilities their masks gave them while still retaining their control. And it had worked – for a short while.

But not 30 seconds afterwards, he'd felt the hollow's control surge and the next thing he remembered he was flat on the floor, Love and Risa's swords at his throat and Rose and Kensei crouched protectively around Hiyori as she cradled her mangled arm to her chest, eyes wide in her face with shock. But no fear.

And that was almost worse than everything else. She _should_ fear him, she should run the hell away as fast as her legs could take her but he knew she was too stubborn for that. So it was up to him then, to protect her – to protect _all_ of them – by keeping his distance.

His musings interrupted by her foot crashing into the side of his head again, he scowled for a moment before eyes landed on her – now healed – arm and he flinched slightly, glancing away. Didn't she understand that he'd just hurt her again?

Obviously not, as she continued to beat on him. Hiyori, for her part, was mostly just pissed off. Sure, he'd broken her arm in about 4 places and it had taken Hachi the better part of an hour to fix it, but that didn't mean he got to act like a pissy little girl about it. Kicking him again, she scowled, crossing arms over her chest. She didn't like seeing him like this, she'd never seen him look so afraid – and of himself, to boot – and it was more disconcerting than she wanted to admit.

"Get the hell up off the goddamned floor, Dickface and stop being such a fucking baby."

He could be afraid if he fucking wanted to be, but she was damned well not going to let him sit there and be a little pussy. Which was precisely what she said as she landed another blow. She _knew_ him, he wasn't like this. He wasn't one to give up and she wasn't planning to let him do so. They _needed_ him. So with another slap of her shoe, she turned around and walked back downstairs, stopping in the doorway for a moment.

"Get the fuck downstairs Baldy, or I'll fucking drag your mentally deficient ass down there all by my goddamned self."

She didn't look back, but she knew she didn't have to. She could already tell she'd gotten through to him. He'd be down in a few moments. And he'd probably think twice about letting fear get the better of himself again anytime soon.


	19. Chip 18 Consequences

Theme:

Theme: 17:00  
Title: Consequences  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 18 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time that Hirako Shinji wanted to kill someone on behalf of Hiyori, he hadn't expected it to be someone that would likely become their comrade. The boy was strong, he had to give him that, but that strength was wasted, splashed around and unfocused like a child swinging an oversized bat to try and hit a fly. And his attitude left a good deal to be desired. Brash, rude, outspoken. A demanding little punk who had the gall to assume he was going to somehow _use_ them for his own means while keeping everything on his own terms.

Shinji actually had to admit he admired that a little.

And when the kid – after he'd so rudely declined Shinji's rather pleasant invitation – showed up at their place ready to fight, he'd had to fight to keep the smirk off of his face. He was ballsy, at least. Reminded him of Hiyori, in a way. Stubborn and straightforward and bull-headed to the core. But there was also that fear. He could see it in Ichigo's eyes as they fought, could feel it in the way the youth held back, unwilling to fight at full power for fear that the darkness inside him would claw it's way back out and take control again. Scared to death that he would once again be the instrument of injury to someone who didn't deserve it.

He had to give the kid a little bit of leeway for that, honestly. They'd _all_ been like that once, scared and nervous about the shadows in their souls, about whether they could overcome the hand they'd been dealt. And they had all managed it and truthfully he didn't have a doubt that Ichigo would too. He'd seen what the kid could do, what he was capable of. And now it was just a matter of waiting until Ichigo was ready.

Or… it had been that way until he'd found himself battered out of the way by an irritable and impatient Hiyori and her sandal. Getting to his feet and wiping the blood from his nose, he shook his head slightly. He should have figured it would end this way. His future bride – though he wasn't about to admit he was going to hold her to that – was never one to be content with slow and steady. She wanted everything now, and she'd see to it that she got things her way even if she had to beat them that way.

Watching as she spoke to him, he had to admit that her words were right. It _wasn't_ Ichigo's choice, not by a long shot. Being a Vaizard wasn't like being a doctor or a taxi driver. It wasn't something you could just turn and walk away from, or ignore. There was no going back, only forward. And of the two options presented before the kid, he was relatively sure that becoming a hollow wasn't the one Ichigo would have preferred.

As Hiyori pulled her mask, he shook his head with a sigh. So impulsive, that one. She'd drag Ichigo's hollow out by force if she had to, and Shinji was relatively sure that she'd manage it. Even if it was only out of sheer belligerence. Stepping back, he hooked thumbs through the beltloops on his pants and just watched as Hiyori began to systematically wipe the floor with Ichigo. Really, the kid needed to realize how serious she was or he really _was_ going to die.

And then suddenly, something changed as Ichigo's hollow broke free with an unearthly howl, one clawed hand reaching out to clench thick fingers around Hiyori's small throat, her body slamming back against the wall with a sickening crack as fingers tightened further, crushing her windpipe against it.

Shinji could feel the others tense up, just as he knew he had, at this monster that dared to lay a hand on one of theirs, that dared to threaten the life of the one they all knew was the heart of the group. Their youngest member, almost like the child they cared for, though she'd have beaten any of them for insinuating it. Their eyes were on him, hands on hilts, waiting for his signal. Waiting for him to do something, to _stop_ this.

Stopping it was what he wanted to do, to dart in and remove Kurosaki of the offending hand that dared to threaten thusly. But despite the rage that seethed through him – not only towards Ichigo but towards himself for allowing this – he couldn't. If only because Hiyori would never have forgiven any of them for it had they interfered. And so he waited, watching with clenched teeth and roiling reiatsu as the black began to recede from her eyes, her hollow crushed down back into her soul where it's strength was out of her reach.

That was all it took for him to nod his head and in a flash Ichigo was on the ground, pinned by foot and sword as they glared stone-faced down at the one who had been possessing of the audacity to harm one of them. Shinji took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself against the reflex to just cut Ichigo's throat right there as he chipped the mask off of the boy's face. Now he could see. Now he'd understand that they were right.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he glanced up to where Hiyori sat backed up against the wall, breathing hard, frightened tears just barely shining at the corners of her eyes. It was a bit cheap, but he couldn't help himself from asking whether she was satisfied. A bit of chiding, but hopefully it would sink in and she wouldn't do something so _stupid_ again.

They'd released Ichigo at her nodded assertion, acted as though bygones were bygones, but he knew that Risa – she was probably the most perceptive of them all – knew better. He could tell by the look she shot him as they walked off back to their perches, the look that told him that while she wasn't going to interfere if he chose to take revenge, that he'd find his _own_ throat slit should he let something like this happen again.

But it hadn't been those thoughts that had occupied his mind as he'd dropped to one knee beside Ichigo's prone form, leaning down to whisper to the boy quietly enough that the others wouldn't hear.

"Touch her again, and it'll be the last thing that you ever do, in this life and the next. I hope we understand each other."

He knew they understood each other, could tell it by the way Ichigo's brown eyes widened as Shinji pushed himself back to his feet, shoving hands in his pockets and loping off to see for himself that she was fine. The killing urge had been suppressed, but he couldn't promise that he'd suppress it again should a "next time" present itself.


	20. Chip 19 Nocturne

The first time Sarugaki Hiyori actually met Hirako Shinji, she'd already beaten his thin face into the ground once before

The first time Hiyori ever admitted to herself the fact that she loved Shinji, she'd followed up that admittance with a sandal to the side of his head. Which was typical for most of their interactions, in fact, so nothing abnormal there. What had been abnormal was the fact that she'd not been her usual abrasive self and he hadn't had his usual smug remarks to make in response.

But then, that happened sometimes. Especially when the nightmares came back.

She didn't like that the visions haunted her, it was weak, it was silly. Even though she knew they all had them, had all experienced the same thing at one time or another. Waking up, in a cold sweat, and hearing the faint sound of that voice echoing through your head as it mocked you, taunted you with visions of what could be. And yet, even the knowledge that Mashiro climbed into Risa's bed on some nights, or that Kensei occasionally sat up with a cup of coffee and just stared out the window at the stars wasn't enough to make Sarugaki Hiyori admit that there were some nights where she almost wished she could put her pride on the shelf long enough to seek out comfort of her own.

So she'd done what she always did, and sought refuge on the roof of the old garage they'd managed to acquire. This whole thing was still new to all of them. The Hollows, the masks... the exile. Nearly 20 years now, and she could tell that they were still adjusting to the knowledge that they could never return to the lives they'd lead. And in a strange way, sitting up here on the cold concrete and watching the clouds move through the night sky overhead made it a bit easier. Maybe because it was remniscent of a time years ago, when she'd been just a little girl and she'd lain on her back on the grass and watched a different set of clouds with Shinji's lanky form stretched out a few inches away. Or maybe it was just because the slow trolling motion of the clouds was just calming. It didn't really matter much to her, Hiyori just cared that it helped.

Or at least, it had been helping until a cheshire-grinned face crowned by cropped blond hair obscured her vision of the night sky and she'd yelped in surprise before planting a fist square into his face. Idiot. Served him right, she growled to herself as she watched him bounce across the roof. Scaring her like that. Gathering the shreds of her composure around her, Hiyori fixed the other Vaizard with a scowl.

"The hell do you want, Shinji?"

His eyebrows had raised slightly, noting the lack of her usual barrage of insults. Then there was the fact that she'd called him by name, rather than any one of the number of derogatory terms she usually held for him -- Dickface and Baldy being among her favourites. Brushing himself off with a chuckle, he'd simply shook his head and loped over to her, plopping down on the concrete beside her and leaning back with arms pillowed behind his head.

"Kinda like old times, ya know?"

Still a bit wary, she'd nodded, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she felt herself relax a bit. His presence was comforting, though she didn't like admitting it.

"Yeah... I guess."

They sat like that in silence for a long few moments before he pushed himself back up into a sitting position and cocked his head at her, his usual wide grin replaced by a slightly gentler one that set a couple of butterflies flitting about her stomach. Shinji didn't MAKE that look, she'd never seen it. Nor had she been prepared for the small chuckle or for him to lean in to whisper in her ear.

"Ya know you've always got me when ya need someone to sit up with you."

Simple words, but they'd shocked her still as she registered them in her head, feeling her cheeks flush for a moment before she yanked her emotions back behind the mask and growled at him, sandal in her hand impacting the side of his head as she snarled that he was an idiot and she didn't need a damned thing from him before getting to her feet and stalking off back inside as Shinji sat up and rubbed his head, a faint grin on his face.


	21. Chip 20 Stolen Fireworks

Theme:

Theme: 20:00  
Title: Stolen Fireworks  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 20 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever kissed Hiyori was much like the first time he met her. He did something because it was what he wanted to do and he got beaten for it. And honestly, he'd always expected – though he'd admit he'd hoped otherwise – for things to turn out that way.

It was Tanabata, one of the few days out of the year that their small group collectively decided to stop their constant training and waiting and planning and just… enjoy themselves. They did it every year and he'd already found himself regretting that this year had to be something of an exception.

They'd still gone into the streets of Karakura 5 hours ago when it started, enjoying the festivities and lights as always, but it was a guarded vacation. And as much as he didn't really think it fair to blame Kurosaki for it, it was impossible to deny that because of the orange-haired punk this place had become much more a hotspot of shinigami activity. And more shinigami meant more likelihood that their small troupe of Vaizards would be discovered in spite of the pains they took to keep that from happening.

The tension had made it a little bit more difficult to enjoy the games and food this year, but they'd managed somehow. They'd been able to relax, have some laughs, and almost forget that there was a war looming on the horizon, that they were exiles who didn't truly belong to this world, that… they spent their lives being hunted. They could just be who they were; a group of friends, celebrating together.

And somewhere between the laughs as Kensei lost his temper with the rifle-shooting booth and had to be dragged off by Love and Rose and the stares as Lisa talked a much more innocent Mashiro into a much racier makeover, he realized that one person was conspicuously absent from their little gathering.

Glancing around, he half-expected to see her at the takoyaki booth, haggling – outright threatening, really – the vendor for a double share at half the price. That was the typical result, and she almost always got what she wanted, mostly owing to the fact that Hiyori could be pretty scary at times. She was always the hardest one to get to go every year, mostly owing to the fact that she hated humans, but also due to her seeming unwillingness to just have fun and relax. Bad for her image, he assumed. But regardless, they somehow managed to drag her along every year.

Turning back to the others, he caught their attention before loping off through the crowd, thumbs hooked in his obi as he walked. If she wasn't at the stand, then there was really only one other place where she'd be. Well, either that or he'd be totally wrong and feel like a moron. But he didn't expect that.

Shinji made his way along the path, noting that the crowds were dwindling as the lanterns along the sides of the pathway came on slowly, their red glow casting blood-orange shadows through the trees and heralding the approach of the 8th hour. He and Hiyori had walked this path numerous times before, and he knew perfectly well that although she'd complain about it the whole time, it was one of her favourite spots. She really wasn't as hard to read as she liked to assume sometimes. At least, not to him.

Coming up on a small shrine, he paused to stare up at the carved figures and the thick braided cord suspending the bell over the alter. Some things didn't change much, and he felt a small smile curve his mouth at the nostalgia of it. Sauntering forward, he stuck his head around the corner of the shrine with a wide grin.

"Found ya. You always sneak off up here."

His response was a noncommittal grunt from the red-garbed – she never wore a yukata, she always said they were too girly – figure leaning up against the back wall of the shrine overlooking the town. He was right, she tended to find her way up here every year. It was secluded and quiet, and she liked that. And then, there was always the fact of it being a perfect out of the way spot to enjoy the fireworks without anyone else seeing.

Plopping down beside her, he leaned his head against the wall with a sigh, handing her a stick of dango as he did so. He knew she didn't like being in the midst of all the humans, and he couldn't really blame her for it. She didn't come to these things for her own enjoyment – though he knew for a fact that she had fun, regardless of how she acted – she came for them. For him and the others because she knew it meant a lot to them. That was why no one complained when she vanished like this, spiriting herself to somewhere isolated and away from the crowds. She didn't like anyone seeing her showing any sort of tender emotion, and enjoyment was listed in those emotions. He was one of the few people who'd ever seen it.

His blue eyes were drawn away from her at the loud popping of gunpowder as iridescent flowers exploded in the sky overhead. Fireworks, signaling the end of the festival for yet another year. Settling back, he tucked his arms behind his head to watch them, eyes glancing every so often to Hiyori. Bathed in the multicoloured light of the sky's display, a look of uncharacteristically open enjoyment on her face, he couldn't deny that he'd been wrong all those years ago.

She was beautiful, and he didn't much care if anyone else thought that way or not. To him, she was more captivating than the fireworks overhead, and every day it got just a little bit harder to keep hiding – well, not really hiding so much as ignoring – the fact. It wasn't even as though he cared if the others knew or not, in fact he was relatively certain that most of them knew he cared for Hiyori a great deal beyond what the rest of them felt for her, it was more… for _her_. Because he knew what she'd think, how she'd react. Just as he knew she felt the same way, could see it in her eyes and read it in her actions in those rare flashes where she let her guard down.

But knowing didn't change anything. It didn't make her less guarded, more receptive to the idea of letting him closer, of opening up and accepting what he was waiting patiently – well, patiently most of the time – to give her. And that was the hardest part of it, the being patient. The waiting and accepting and hoping that one day she would feel comfortable enough to let him in while he shoved back feelings and emotions and urges that got harder and harder to deny every day he did it.

And maybe that was why, before he even really knew what he was doing, Shinji had turned towards her, leaning down to catch her chin in his hand and tilt her face up to press lips over hers in a gentle, yet insistent kiss. Whether she took the hint or not, he didn't much care right now. He just didn't know how much longer he could keep going on not saying anything. Not knowing if she knew, or if she cared.

For one long, silent moment she simply sat there, brown eyes wide, Shinji's lips still pressed against hers before the reality of the situation set in and a few moments later she was storming down the path, cheeks flaming and a string of curses spewing from her mouth as Shinji lay in a battered – but grinning – heap on the top of the hill.


	22. Chip 21 Cold Hard Truth

Theme:

Theme: 06:00  
Title: Cold, Hard Truth  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 21 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji ever told Hiyori he loved her, he hadn't really intended on it. It had just slipped out, really, amidst other things and more important matters. Not that he didn't consider that fact to be important, it just wasn't the most pressing of matters at the moment.

What was more pressing was the war at hand. And what their part in it should be. It was a tense subject, for more than one reason, and they'd already been at it for six hours since midnight the night before. The war that was brewing would threaten everything. Not just Seireitei, but Karakura and the entirety of the world. There was no "staying out" of it, only deciding on which side to fight. Or whether to simply fight for themselves, as they'd always done.

Loyalty was a tricky subject. They'd all once been loyal to Seireitei and look how well that had turned out. And though none of them wanted to deny that circumstances had been complex and difficult, it was hard to justify the fact of being exiled based on something that someone else had done. Something they'd had little to no control over. But was the animosity they still held towards their former home enough to warrant standing by and just watching.

Shinji didn't think so. And while Hiyori had angrily asserted that the only reason he felt thusly was because he was a whiney little moron who blamed himself for not stopping Aizen, he had to argue that that wasn't the only reason. Granted, it was partly true, he _did_ feel responsible, but he also couldn't deny that _they_ were in danger as well.

Hiyori hadn't wanted to hear that – not that the others had been very receptive to the idea of fighting beside the shinigami either – and it hadn't taken much before she'd snarled something along the lines of "fuck you Baldy, there's no damned way I'm fighting for them" and stalked off downstairs, leaving everyone else to deal with the awkward silence.

They'd put it to a vote, Shinji sighing and assuming that Hiyori's vote would be an emphatic "no", and when it was all decided, it was left up to him to go downstairs and tell their recalcitrant comrade that she'd been outvoted, and that they were going to war.

He couldn't force her, of course, and he wasn't about to try, but he knew how Hiyori worked. She may hate it, but she wasn't going to let her friends go off to fight without her. Picking his way down the stone steps, he stopped a few feet away – safely out of sandal range – and cocked his head at her.

"Oi. Ya got outvoted, Hiyori. We're goin to war."

What he got was a frown and a scoff as she resettled herself on the floor to look up at him from beneath shaggy blond bangs.

"Tch. The fuck are we doing, Shinji? _Helping_ them?! They fuckin hate us, they'd probably just put us the fuck into the goddamned 12th division research pool after this, I _know_ what they fuckin' do there!"

Sighing, he couldn't really argue with her as she continued to rant. They all knew it, knew that there was a great likelihood that once they'd done their part in the war, Seireitei would turn on them, treat them like the criminals they were considered, and the fact that they'd helped turn the tide of the battle would be forgotten amidst the chance to discipline them, to lock them up and _study_ them.

"Th' fuck choice do we have, Hiyori? If Aizen wins, we'll die too ya know. And I know I'm not that keen on dyin' anytime soon. Besides… the hell do you care if they hate us? You hate them too."

She rolled her eyes and lobbed a rock at him, but lacking her usual vehemence, it fell just short of it's target as she drew legs up to her chest. It wasn't like that. Of course she hated the shinigami, but then she had a _reason_ to hate them. But them… they hated her just because she happened to be an unlucky casualty. Because something beyond her control had interfered to make her the way she was today. They hated her for _existing_.

"I'd just… like ta know what it fuckin feels like ta NOT be hated for a change, ya know?"

He nodded, completely understanding what she meant. Going through life being hated… wasn't something anyone would wish for, but it was their lot in life. Settling down beside her, he crossed his legs, resting elbows on knees, zanpakutou laying across his lap.

"Yeah, I know. But it won't always be like that. Besides… not everyone hates you."

Hiyori stiffened slightly, memories of that night a few weeks back filtering through her mind as she closed her eyes to block out the remembered sensation of his lips on hers. Pushing herself to her feet, she laughed almost derisively, folding hands behind her head.

"Quit bein fuckin sappy, Shinji. Everyone hates us. Hell, we probably even hate each other."

It was a blatant lie and she knew it, but it was the only way she could think of at the moment to try and get him away from the topic she was afraid he was going to broach. Because she didn't want to hear it, didn't need to know. It was easier if she didn't admit it, if she didn't face the fact. Easier to ignore it.

"That's bullshit and you know it, Hiyori. And even if ya didn't… you should know _I_ don't hate you. I love you too much fer that."

Dammit, he'd gone and said it. Idiot. She felt her muscles tense up, fists clenching at her sides as she just stood there for a long moment before letting her pent-up breath out in a sigh and a single word.

"Why?"

She didn't give him time to say anything else before she was gone, feet pounding up the stairs as she sought refuge from the truth and from him. Shinji sighed, scratching his head. Somehow, he'd hoped that would go better in his head. Not expected it, just hoped.


	23. Chip 22 Facade

Theme: 03:00  
Title: Facade  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 22 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

lj-cut text"Hiyori was never really good at keeping her temper in check"

The first time that Hiyori ever kissed Shinji, she told herself she did it out of some momentary blip of insanity and that it wasn't anything that was ever going to happen again.

They were training, sparring between the two of them at we hours of the morning, the other Vaizard absent for once from the downstairs part of the warehouse -- likely as much because of Hiyori's temper as the fact that it was 3AM. She knew where they were, they were upstairs, avoiding her frankly awful mood while Shinji – she was certain he must be mentally deficient to do so – stayed downstairs to bother her about it. Idiot.

He couldn't just leave her the hell alone, he'd had to bother her all day, refusing to give her a moment's peace when he realized that she was avoiding him. And no matter how many times she'd beaten him already, he just seemed determined NOT to get it through his head that he should stay the fuck away. But then, Shinji never Idid/I like not knowing something, so she supposed it was only to be expected that he'd annoy the hell out of her while trying to subtly provoke her into telling him whatever was on her mind.

Hopefully the sparring would distract him, especially seeing as how she'd angrily declared that it was pure hand-to-hand, no masks or kidou allowed. Just swords and hakudou and while he might have had the advantage when it came to swordsmanship – he didn't get to be a captain for nothing – she was still lighter and quicker on her feet. A fact that she demonstrated as she pivoted out of the way, using his own momentum to send him flying.

"Will you just shut the hell up, Baldy?! It's none of your damn business anyway!"

Shinji came flying out of the dust cloud with a hard sideways strike, driving her back amidst a flurry of profanity. Whether it was his business or not – and he felt it was, seeing as it was HIM she was avoiding – didn't really matter. She was being more surly than usual and he wanted to know why. And if he had to drag it out of her by backing her into a corner, than so be it.

"It's none of my business when you avoid Ime/I? How th' hell does that work?"

Her response was another attack that pushed him back. He'd have to start fighting seriously now, or he was going to get hurt. Only… he kept getting so damned close it was throwing her off. Throwing her off because she couldn't get his words and his kiss out of her mind. And that was what really made her so angry. Not even that he'd done it, but that she couldn't sit there and pretend it didn't mean anything to her because she knew for a fact that it did. And that pissed her off.

Striking back, she drove him back further before he turned the tables, pressing forward until her back was against the wall. Fuckin' prick, pressing her like that. Well no way in hell was she gonna let him win. Pulling back a hand, she felt the reiatsu change as she drew the energy into her palm and let the bala fly at him.

Wide-eyed Shinji let go and leapt out of the way, getting back to his feet, anger showing clearly in his eyes. Hiyori wasn't one for cheating, and that had been a cheap shot at best. Gritting his teeth he called on his own hollow, driving her back as she frantically defended until he knocked the sword free from her hands, ending with her pinned to the ground, his knees on either side of her hips, one hand on either of her wrists.

"The hell was that?! Ya said no fuckin' masks, Hiyori! The hell is botherin' you so much you're gonna turn into a goddamned cheat?"

Sitting there, looming over her, a thought crossed his mind as he watched her struggle, knowing that at any moment he would probably have a knee in his groin.

"Is this about what I said th' other day? Is that it?"

It would make sense, given the way she was acting, and his question was answered rather quickly with a sudden flush to her cheeks and the angry way she struggled even harder against him.

"Shut the fuck up, Baldy, I said it's none of yer' damn business and I don't wanna hear about that!"

Before he could say or do anything else, she'd called on her hollow again, using the extra boost of strength to flip them over so he was now the one pinned to the ground, her scowling face looming over his, cheeks flushed against the freckles that spattered her cheeks. Half-expecting an imminent beating, he closed his eyes, but opened them again when the impact didn't come, instead finding that she was still looming – in a rather compromising position, no less – over him, a strange expression on her face.

"H..Hiyori? Are you… ok?"

In a sudden quick movement, she leaned down and pressed her mouth clumsily to his for just a moment before she was gone in a flash, the door slamming behind her. Shinji just lay there for a moment, stunned into silence before his face broke into a wide grin and he stretched, folding arms behind his head and beginning to whistle a simple little tune. That was an answer he could deal with.


	24. Chip 23 Stolen Dreams

Theme:

Theme: 19:00  
Title: Stolen Dream  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 23 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Shinji made love to Hiyori, it was nothing like what he'd thought it would be. There were no wedding bells, no white dress or gathered friends to cheer as they started a new life together. None of the things he knew she secretly had always wanted and he'd always silently vowed to give her one day.

It was the eve of battle, their last night of peace before their world would be forever altered by events they had helped shape. Before their lives were cast into the cauldron and served up to the great hands rolling the dice. It would be a miracle if they all survived. That was a fact that every single one of them knew, and no one had the heart to try and mask it. For some of them… this would be the last night they would likely spend here.

That was probably the reason why Kensei had, in a rather tender show of feeling, allowed Mashiro to sleep curled up with her head in his lap while he dozed on the couch in the living room. Or why Lisa and Rose had taken some time to themselves to address things they'd never gotten a chance to say.

He had chosen to simply keep to himself, retiring early at around 7:30, holed up in his room and sprawled across his bed with hands behind his head, counting dots on the ceiling. It was useless at this point to have regrets, but some regrets weren't as easily banished as others. And his thoughts on those same things had been interrupted by a soft knocking at the door. Getting to his feet, he'd made his way over and pulled it open to find – to his surprise – Hiyori's slight figure standing there.

It said something for both of their mental states that she neither barged right past him – and that she'd actually _knocked_ for a change – or that he didn't make some smart-ass crack about her coming to his room late at night. They were… beyond that sort of thing now, in this slip of time where moments were really so few and it was hard to justify wasting them on petty fighting.

He'd stepped aside, ushering her in as she'd sat down on the edge of his bed, heaving a sigh. Shinji had expected her to say something, to want to stay up and talk, but instead his eyebrows raised in surprise as she hesitantly reached out for his hand, twining fingers through his before raising her head to look at him, a simple and silent request in her eyes.

Through his own surprise and near-disbelief, he'd understood. Understood what she wanted, and reached out his other hand to carefully comb through her hair as if to verify that it was what she really wanted before leaning down and kissing her gently, pressing her back against the mattress.

It hadn't been how he'd have expected it to be, no frenzied rush of feeling or demands from her that he do this differently or stop doing that or that he was taking too long or moving too fast or any of the other things he'd always assumed she'd say. Neither of them had spoken as she helped him strip them both of their clothes, silently letting him lead the way, his lips whispering across her skin as gently as he could manage.

She'd only cried a little as he entered her, as slowly and carefully as he could because he knew it would hurt her, knew it was a time when he needed to take his time, and despite the fact that he'd once thought it would be difficult to control himself thusly, somehow he felt as though he couldn't do anything but.

As slowly as he could, rocking hips against hers, as if somehow they could pause the world, forget everything else and drag this out and somehow halt the flow of time, push back the ever-encroaching dawn that was drawing nearer, get lost in her soft sighs and moans of his name as her arms wrapped around his neck and she locked her ankles at the small of his back.

When it was all over, and she was resting curled up in the crook of his arm, he could feel her bury her head against his shoulder and feel the hot dampness of tears against his skin as she wept, perhaps for lost dreams or perhaps for something else that even he couldn't understand. She knew, just as he did, that this could be the last time, and in spite of things, he had understood what she'd been offering. What she'd been trying to say. That she'd always intended it to be him, and that she wanted him to help her let go of that childish dream she'd carried for so long. That dream that had faded away in the face of an ugly war.

And he'd held her as she cried, not saying anything – there was nothing he could have said that wouldn't have seemed cliché – because he knew she didn't need words, didn't need empty sentiment. She just needed _this_ right now.

She was gone when he woke up the next morning, her scent in the sheets the only lingering memory of what had transpired, and as he got up to join the rest of them at the breakfast table, it was simple to see that although everything had been altered so completely the night before, they would keep going as always as he was met with the same sandal and insults as usual.


	25. Chip 24 Mask of Truth

Theme:

Theme: 05:00  
Title: Mask of Truth  
Fandom: Bleach  
Character: Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori  
Category: Romantic  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Other than the TBTP arc, mostly just language, really bc of Hiyori. And as always, I'm making up their past before the TBTP arc because we don't know about their childhood/academy days/etc.  
Disclaimer: Bleach / mine, or we'd see way more Vaizard love.  
Summary: Part 24 of my 24-piece series of memorable "firsts" for these two.

The first time Hiyori ever told Shinji she loved him, it was as she was watching him die.

Fallen in battle, fallen protecting _her_. Hiyori was a single-minded fighter, so focused on the enemy in front of her that she'd never seen the sword coming at her unprotected back But Shinji had. And in a blur of realized panic, he'd done the only thing that he could think to do.

There wasn't time to pull his mask, not enough time even to bring up his blade to try and block the gleaming steel on it's deadly path for her small form. All he could do was to throw himself in the way, biting back a gasp of pain as he felt the blade bite into his skin, plunging deep into his chest as it bore through him to punch a hole out the back.

Hiyori heard the sound, spinning around as her eyes widened in horror at the sight how in front of her. Shinji, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth, bloodied hands clenched tightly around the blade in his chest, crimson rivulets running down it as he sneered at it's owner, spitting bright red onto pristine white hakama.

No… it wasn't supposed to be this way, wasn't supposed to happen like this. They were warriors, she knew that as well as any of them did, and sometimes warriors died in battle, but he wasn't supposed to die for _her_. She watched as, as if in slow motion, Shinji yanked on the sword impaling him, pushing it deeper with a sickening sound as he brought his own sword to bear at the arrancar, slicing head from neck with a single quick stroke.

Stumbling back, he glanced over his shoulder to give a weak and thready version of his usual Cheshire grin before his eyes unfocused slightly and he staggered, dropping down to one knee, the point of his zanpakutou digging into the ground for support. And then, it was as if the invisible cord holding her and the rest of the world in place snapped and time sped up in a rush and she was running and then she was there, beside him, catching him as he fell.

Struggling with his weight, she tugged his head into her lap, frantically staring at the wound, shrill voice calling for help that wasn't coming. Hiyori could feel the hot sting of tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and for once she didn't dash them away, didn't blink them back, she just let them come. And come they did, splashing down to mingle with the blood on his face as Shinji managed a weak cough, bright blood spattering the front of his shirt as he reached a shaky hand up to comb through her hair and cup the side of her face.

"S…sorry….. looks like I…. Can't make ya….my bride after… all. Guess I…. Really am a… dumbass…."

She shook her head, grabbing his hand tightly as she tried in vain to summon up the anger, to find her hiding place behind the mask again, her other hand frantically working kidou. Heal it. She could heal it, she _had_ to. He couldn't be getting paler, weaker, as she screamed out Hachi's name, the raw fear thick in her voice. He couldn't leave her. He'd always been there, always been beside her, and without him… she didn't know what to do.

Leaning down, she sobbed, pressing her forehead against his, shaking him and trying to coax rapidly-dimming blue eyes from closing as she pressed lips against his bloodied ones. He knew, didn't he? He knew how she felt, he knew she needed him, even though she'd never said it, even though she'd taken every chance she could to hide it. He _had_ to know.

"Sh…Shinji don't go. Don't…. don't leave, please don't…. don't die! You can't die, ya hear me? I'll…. I'll hate you forever, ya fuckin dumbass, so do..don't even think about it…"

Her voice broke, as she begged, the strength leaving and being replaced with fear and anguish as she tried to hold onto him as he slipped away.

"D..Dammit, I love you! Don't fuckin leave me!"

Hiyori's anguished wails had been heard across the battle, and even those who didn't know who they pained cries belonged to had known that they belonged to someone who had just felt their world slip away.

In the aftermath, she sat alone in a blank room at the hospital, haunted eyes staring out at the bare, blasted landscape beyond as the clock ticked slowly by. 5AM, or something like that. She didn't really care anymore. So many had fought, and so many had died. Friends, family, enemies… all lives offered up for the slaughter. In the name of a peace that had been shakily forged in the blood of the dead.

The door opened slightly, the shuffling sound of feet as they made their way across the room the only sound as the owner of said feet stopped beside her, one long-fingered hand coming to rest on her shoulder with a tight squeeze.

"It's over now, ya know. It's th' end of the war.."

Reaching up, she sought out the fingers, wrapping hers around them with a slight shake of her head.

"No… it's never gonna be over."

Shinji sighed slightly, shaking his head faintly and adjusting the bandage around his head as he threaded fingers through hers, one fingertip absently tracing the small studded metal band on one finger. She was right, in a way. Things weren't over, they probably wouldn't ever be over. But that didn't mean they couldn't get better.

"Maybe so. But things'll get better, ya know.

Tightening her grip a bit more, feeling his finger trace over the diamond momentarily, Hiyori allowed a faint smile to ghost across her face as she nodded. He was right. Things would get better.

"Yeah, Baldy. I think they will."


	26. Epilogue

24 Chips of Bone, To Make a Mask, To Hide the Truth

Epilogue

It was spring now, months since the Winter War and it's toll. The conflict had taken 2 comrades from them, but Hachi and Kensei had given their lives for the purpose and they would always be remembered by the ones they had left behind, their names etched into the history and memory of the world alongside the shinigami and humans who they had fought beside.

Hiyori was the first one up the hill, arms stretched back behind her head as she walked, sandals hanging loosely from hooked fingertips to dangle behind her head. Sighing, she paused to take in a deep breath of the afternoon air before turning back behind her with a scowl.

"Idiot Baldy, quit takin so fuckin long! You're such a goddamned baby I dunno why th' hell I said I'd marry you, you're such a damn pussy!"

Her outburst was met with a significant amount of grumbling from Shinji – or rather, the pile of wrapped bentos and baskets that were obscuring his form – and a bit of snickering from the others as they watched the smug-faced Vaizard cater to his fiance's whims.

Striking out ahead, Hiyori paused at the top of the hill, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully as the others waited behind her. Shinji's head stuck out from behind the pile of bentos, his legs trembling slightly under their weight. Could she BE taking any longer to pick a spot? His legs were overjoyed as she nodded, loudly declaring that this was the spot she wanted and he could put everything down now but he'd better not break it.

With a gasp, he let the boxes drop into a heap on the floor, slumping down in the grass and scratching his head before stretching his arms as he glanced sidelong at Hiyori. At least there wasn't a second load or anything.

It didn't take long before they'd managed to get everything set up, Hiyori claiming her half of the blanket, with everyone else crammed together on the other half and Shinji mopping up his nose from his attempt to share that half with her. Leaning back on his hands, he cast blue eyes up towards the sky, watching the soft clouds roll by.

"Guess that's them makin it nice fer us. Whatcha think, guys?"

At his words, the others stopped eating to stare up at the sky for a moment, admiring the perfect, pristine blue. The blue that their friends had given their lives to protect. They stayed like that for a few moments before Lisa smiled slightly and nodded.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

Author's Notes

Well, I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this little series as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm sorry to the Hachi and Kensei fans, I actually adore them too they just happened to be the two who I picked out of the hat when I was picking who died, but they died for a good reason. I know that a lot of this has been my own conjecture about relationships and pasts and such and hopefully I've been able to do justice to Kubo-san's wonderful characters. To anyone who is wondering, Shinji had the ring for awhile, ever since he'd realized he loved her and was planning to hold her to that "future bride" crack she was always making. On the field, when he was dying, she actually thought he WAS dead, and he almost was. He was one of the last people Hachi saved before he was killed, healing him just enough to where he would last until the 4th division platoon showed up and completed the healing. Hachi did it for Hiyori, knowing that it would be the last of his energy. Kensei teamed up with Hisagi and the two of them fought side by side until they were overwhelmed. Kensei took the offensive, telling Hisagi that while part of being a captain is going down fighting, the other part is staying alive so those under you can stay alive too and sent Hisagi off while he stayed to face the brunt of the attack himself. Hiyori stayed by Shinji's side until he woke up, and he proposed before she even had a chance to hit him. She did, just after she'd gotten over the initial shock.


End file.
